Burn The House Down
by RowWithAChipNPin
Summary: Sequel to 'Saving Rose Tyler.' The Bad Wolf is back. A newly regenerated Rose Tyler is ready to take the worlds by storm, and with a little help from a telepathic timeship, she's planning to break through the walls of the universe and return to the Doctor. But, when an unknown force threatens reality itself, the Bad Wolf is going to need a different kind of help, namely: Torchwood.
1. Good-bye Rose Tyler

**Title: **Blow The House Down

**Author: **Nagi Kokuyo

**Fandom(s): **Doctor Who & Torchwood

**Rating: **T

**Warnings: **Language, alcohol, violence, probably character death, complete disregard for continuity, blatant abuse of physics, possible threesomes, Captain Jack Harkness

**Spoilers: **I don't think there's anything important, but you should probably see up to ep 8 of Broadchurch, just in case. **Sequel to **"**The Blonde in the Leather Jacket**" and **"****Saving Rose Tyler."** You should probably read those first. Also, this contains spoilers for The Stolen Earth and Journey's End. Mildly AU after Journey's End, because there is no Meta-Crisis Doctor. Starting with this fic, there is canon divergence for Torchwood at the end of Season 1 and complete AU for Seasons 2 & 3 (I don't even acknowledge Miracle Day, it's a disgrace).

**Summary: **The Bad Wolf is back. A newly regenerated Rose Tyler is ready to take the worlds by storm, and with a little help, she's planning to break through the walls of the universe and return to her Doctor. But when an unknown force threatens reality itself, the Bad Wolf is going to need a different kind of help, namely: Torchwood.

**A/N: **Back by popular demand—no, wait, that's not right. Sequel to "The Blonde in the Leather Jacket" and "Saving Rose Tyler," this one may or may not feature Hardy, I haven't decided yet. There's also something I need to clear up before we go any further. The Rose Tyler in this story is not Rose Tyler, she's the Bad Wolf, a Time Lady. Yes, I will explain. Probably. Eventually.

**oOoOoOo**

**CARDIFF, WALES, EARTH (aka SOL III, TERRA, TELLUS, GAIA, RAVOLOX, ANTYKHON, BIG BALL, etc)**

**SOL GALACTIC SYSTEM, MUTTER'S SPIRAL**

**SECTOR 8023, THIRD QUADTRANT OF THE SHADOW PROCLAMATION**

**EARTH YEAR 2008, LATE APRIL/EARLY MAY**

The woman in the leather jacket steps off the carriage and flips down her sunglasses. After the long train ride, it feels good to stand on solid, unmoving ground again; she's been to plenty of places, and solid ground is always a plus.

Even though it's the beginning of summer, it's still a bit chilly, and she pulls her jacket closer. It's more of a reflex, really, because she doesn't feel temperatures like she used to. One of the perks of her new life.

She opts not to catch a cab and instead walks the distance from the train station to Roald Dahl Plass. She revels in the culture of urban Cardiff—it's...quaint, especially after the bazaars on Shan Shen and the Festival of Offerings on Akhaten, God, that was a good time.

No matter where in the universes she goes, Earth has a special place in her heart—like a favorite rest stop on a trip you take often—and the people who live on it are at the very least entertaining. Watching them scurry around their meaningless lives with such fervor is adorable, and fills her with the same fuzzy feeling as puppies as arrogant dictators.

Eventually, she makes her way to the famous postcard setting, and while it's crawling with camera-happy tourists, the picturesque views and iconic statue don't even faze her. A woman with a purpose, she strides across the Plass without even glancing at the gleaming tower, her foots clicking softly against the stone. She has a destination in mind, and as she rounds the Plass and gets down towards the Bay, she sees it.

A small tourist information booth, purposely kept off the beaten path in a place strategically meant to deter Hawaiian-shirt wearing, souvenir-toting, culturally-ignorant swine from visiting it.

The overwhelmingly unwelcome facade does nothing to dissuade her as she pushes open the door and disturbs the carefully-constructed cover story of a certain semi-secret organization.

A little bell dings overhead as the door swings open, and she scowls, fighting the urge to dismantle it or melt it. There's no one behind the desk when she enters, but after a moment, a man comes out from a side room, wiping his hand on a towel. He's young—younger than she remembers, but damn, she's not complaining. After all, she's old, not dead—and dressed impeccably in a perfectly tailored suit. He scans her head to toe as she does the same to him—although he doesn't appear to be undressing her with his eyes, so there's at least once difference between them—and she can't blame him. She supposes that she is a little vain this time around.

She knows what he sees when he looks at her, and after fifty years, she still isn't used to it. She likes this body the best, though, and she's been quite careful with it. She'd hate for something unseemly to happen to it. Short dark hair that falls around her face in soft waves, pale blue eyes a bit too large for her face and a nose a bit too pointed, and high cheekbones that someone once described as capable of cutting glass. This body has a predisposition towards shirts a shade too low-cut and jeans a size too tight, and the moment she spotted her leather jacket in a shop on Salus, she fell in love all over again.

Every time she looks in the mirror, she knows why she likes this body so much. She looks like _him._

Normally, she'd pretend to be a regular tourist by browsing the maps and brochures, but she's in a bit of a hurry. Normally, she just lets the Doctor take care of that kind of stuff, because as a rule, it always involves humans, and he's just better with them than she is. But this isn't a normal situation, and so all the normal rules go out the airlock. Fate of the universe and all that.

So instead of trying to pretend she's even remotely human, she leans forward and splays her hands on the counter, every inch the harmless girl instead of a highly dangerous, volatile, and questionably mentally-disturbed Time Lady.

"Are you Ianto Jones?" she asks. She already knows the answer, because after all, they've met before, but he doesn't know that she knows and he doesn't know that they've met before because they haven't yet, and it's important not to endanger timelines. Even she can't do that, not that she hasn't tried. It never ends well, and she's starting to feel like an intergalactic janitor.

He eyes her carefully and cautiously, as if he isn't sure she won't bite him or take off his limb. He must decide she's not a threat—wouldn't he be surprised—because after a moment of hesitation, he takes her hand. Her handshake is firm and brisk and she lets go too soon, but he gets the chance to notice that their hands fit together perfectly.

"Yes," he says eventually, "may I help you with something?"

She laughs, and it's nothing like her laugh used to be. She used to have such a pretty laugh, but now even she notices that she comes across as slightly unhinged. It doesn't help that she is, in fact, slightly unhinged. Centuries of isolation and segregation will do that to a person. She tries not to dwell on it.

"Oh, I hope so. I really do."

She pulls of the sunglasses, revealing golden-tinged eyes, and smiles, tongue between her teeth.

"I need to talk to you about the man who calls himself Captain Jack Harkness. I'm the Bad Wolf, by the way—hello!"

**oOoOoOo**

**I'm BAAAAAACK! Sorry for the delay, dear readers, but I wanted to get a few chapters written before I started posting. Anyway, here is the third installment in my ****_Torchwood in Broadchurch_**** series (a name that is only used on AO3, which allows me to create series'), starring Rose Tyler and...oh, wait. Ha. Not our dearly tormented detective.**

**Sorry folks, but it's going to be awhile before Alec has any sort of major role in this story. BUT, he will return. So, I can promise you that.**

**I can also ****promise you that Jack's Torchwood team will interact with both the Doctor and Rose in depth, and that Ianto is going to have reason for being majorly jealous.**

**But this chapter isn't really anything you haven't seen before. In fact, I ****literally just copied and pasted the last chapter of ****_Saving Rose Tyler. _****That's mostly because I felt I had to toss you guys a bone after the break. Since finishing ****_Saving Rose Tyler, _****I graduated high school and started my college career. Yay (I'm not yet sure if that's sarcastic or not...). My first day is near the end of August, so I'm going to try and get as much writing done before then as possible since after, it's going to get hectic.**

**Other than that...you know the drill by now. If you have any suggestions or ideas of how the story should go, feel free to sound off in the comments. **

**With love, Nagi**


	2. Enter the First Bad Wolf

**300 YEARS EARLIER**

**PETE'S WORLD**

**LONDON, ENGLAND, EARTH**

**AND ALL THAT OTHER CRAP FROM BEFORE**

The woman with frizzy red hair and far too many freckles waits until after the funeral to approach.

She stands under a tree at the edge of the cemetery, and watches everyone pay their respects and, gradually, leave. Her mum, red-faced and sobbing that her daughter is gone. Her stepdad, mourning the loss of a daughter that was and wasn't his at the same time. Ianto and Jake, her boys, her team.

Hardy. Ellie. The two people who represent her life in Broadchurch. A life she enjoyed very much, and will miss.

She wishes that she could step forward and tell everyone that it's alright, she's fine, just a misunderstanding. The body in the coffin—yeah, that looks like her, but it's not. She wants to explain, and soothe away all their worries, and make everything better.

But she can't.

They wouldn't believe her, and she wouldn't blame them; she barely believes it herself, and she's living it. She doesn't understand what the hell is going on, and since she has so few answers to her many questions, how would she even begin to explain?

After all, how could she have possibly known that Time Lords only have one heart until they regenerate for the first time? How could she have known that, years earlier, a much younger and less world-worn Rose changed her body at a genetic level with the power of the TARDIS, and then forgot about it?

So instead, she stands there and waits, and her two hearts break in her chest.

She blinks away tears and stuffs her hands in her wool coat's pockets, and her fingertips brush against something cold and metal. Mutely, she pulls out a glowing key, and remembers the chunk of TARDIS coral sitting in a box labeled TYLER, ROSE (DESK) in a Torchwood storage facility in Cardiff, sealed away after her death. She wraps her fingers around the key until the metal bites into her skin, and lifts her chin, making a silent resolution.

Death doesn't have to be the end. It can be a new beginning, too; the Doctor taught her that.

Dirt cascades atop Rose Tyler's casket, and the Bad Wolf watches.

The Bad Wolf ducks behind the tree and waits as the funeral-goers file past her. When the last one has gone, she approaches the newly covered grave and crouches down, dipping her hand through the cool, moist earth. She understands now, what the Doctor said to her all those years ago. She can feel it, too. The Earth spinning under her feet, hurtling through space at sixty-seven thousand miles an hour around that one tiny burning star. She feels the faint trembling against, under her hand as she smooths over the grave, patting the dirt down.

Funny, that, she thinks. Out of all the stars in all the galaxies in all the universe, this one was perfectly geared towards supporting the human race as it stumbled and crawled its way into the dominant species on this one funny little planet. And that one insignificant shop girl was lucky enough to be born at precisely the right time, in exactly the right place, with just the right amount of insanity to befriend a man like the Doctor.

She brushes her fingertips over the name engraved on the marble headstone—ROSE TYLER—and the words carved below it—DEFENDER OF THE EARTH—and she hears _his_ voice in her head. _"Rose Tyler, Defender of the Earth. Can't ask for better than that." _She smiles sadly and rises to her feet.

She'll do him one better. She'll defend the universe, and once she finds her way back to him, she'll defend that one, too.

"I'm comin' home, Doctor. Just you wait."

**OOoOoOo**

**Because the first chapter is really just content from the second story, I decided to post actual content.**

**Behold, the Bad Wolf.**

**Now, you actually have to review if you want the next chapter.**

**~Nagi**


	3. The Oncoming Storm

The Bad Wolf considers the stealthy approach, but ultimately decides against it. She is in a hurry, after all, and not at all in the mood to be sneaky. This new body likes to be flashy, make a statement. She's a full-tilt diva, and the Rose part of the Bad Wolf doesn't particularly mind; Rose was never this confident as a human. Didn't even have the potential. The Bad Wolf can be anything, anyone.

Everything.

Everyone.

And boy, does she have big plans for the universe. All of time and space is her stage, the worlds her audience.

But, first thing's first, of course. What's a Time Lord without a TARDIS? Grounded, that's what, and she's never handled being grounded very well. Since there's no window to sneak out of, she'll have to do one better and steal a baby space ship.

She stands under the awning and watches the guards rotate for the third time that night, and smiles. For over a week, she's surveilled the Torchwood Cardiff installation, and so far, the schedules have remained constant and no one's asked her jack squat about why she's just standing there, day after day. Not one person has even looked at her twice, because as far as their little hive minds are concerned, if she's on-base, she must belong. After all, how else could she get into a highly surveilled, defended militant compound? It's not like she just walked through the front do—oh wait, that's _exactly _what she did.

Idiots. She's quite sure that the security wasn't so sloppy when she was an operative. Of course she's wearing a stolen ID badge to avoid such conflicts, but honestly, men, shape up. How do they expect to protect humanity if they can't protect themselves?

If they were the only ones standing between Earth and an alien invasion, the Earth would be royally fucked. As it stands, the Bad Wolf has arrived, and she's very disappointed. In humanity at large, more generally, but specifically in Torchwood. Since Cybus was defeated and the Cyberman menace controlled, they've become complacent. Arrogant. Doing a piss-poor job of the lives she gave them.

She pulls her sunglasses down off her head and slides them up her long, thin nose, hiding golden eyes. She smiles the smile of a hungry predator, and the universe itself shivers in apprehension. Expectation.

Time for a lesson in humility, ladies and gents.

**OOoOoOo**

**Here's the new chapter, introducing the Pete's World Torchwood and a look into the mind of the Bad Wolf. The next chapter will have actual characters, including ones you may recognize from the show.**

**Also, if you want new chapters, I'd better start getting some reviews. I can check traffic stats, you little shits; I know you're reading this, and guests can post reviews. I'll hold my story hostage if I have to. I don't like to do it, but I will. **

**On another not-entirely-unrelated note, three years ago I started a NaNoWriMo project. And last week, I started uploading it on Wattpad. It's not Doctor Who related, but it _is _my novel, and I figured, Hey, can't hurt to promote it to people who've stuck around for two stories. If you guys made it to the third in this series, my writing must not bug you too much.**

**It's a futuristic cyberpunk adventure centered around three main characters-Lyra, a bike courier; Evelyn, an unstable hacker; and Alaude, a wanted traitor-as they become involved with the terrorist organization, the Human Liberation Army, and its fight against the Holy Roman Empire's persecution of so-called "Subhumans."**

**So, you know, check it out if you love me. This is not at all emotional extortion.**

** www. watt pad dot com /story/ 18920251 -the-rose-crusaders**

**~Nagi**


	4. Captain Williams On Duty

The captain in charge of Torchwood Cardiff jerks upright her seat as the alarm rips through the complex, eyes wide and hands reaching for a gun.

"I'm awake!"

She looks around at her office, awash in the red strobe lights, assaulted by the blaring _whah-whah-whah _of the security system throwing a tantrum. She doesn't know why they bother with the lights; the damn alarm is so loud even the deaf can hear it. It thrums in her bones, reverberating deeply with a combination of Torchwood training and survival instincts left over from her Preacher days. SECURITY ALERT flashes on the monitors that surround her; the doors slam shut on her office. She starts to push herself out of her chair before she remembers and drops her hands.

Lyn rubs her thigh absently and stretches. She thinks about putting off the administrative crap whe got saddled withCoffee can wait until after she gets rid of that goddamn alarm.

"Now," she says, "what the hell is going on?"

A few key taps and she pulls up the alert on her holoscreen. One of the security men—Owen something—appears, apparently still in the surveillance booth.

"Ma'am." He salutes.

She nods in recognition. "'Ello, soldier. What's with the alert?"

"There's been a break-in in the storage level—unidentified intruder, female, mid-thirties. Presumed nonhuman. She was wearing an ID, but it was stolen; agent was found bound and unconscious in a broom closet a few minutes ago." He has the decency to look properly repentant for the hole in security—a hole large enough to drive a bleeding lorry through. "Sorry, Captain."

Lyn groans and drags her hand through her hair. "Ugh!" The adage is true—there are no slow days, just slow people. Finally, she blows out a lungful of air and scowls. "What about the intruder? She's been apprehended, I trust?"

Please say yes. Please say yes. Please, for the love of her sanity, say yes!

Alas, Owen scowls.

"Sorry, ma'am, she got away. Knocked five of my men on their arses on her way out, and our security cams got nothin' more than a blur. Some sort of interference," he explains. "I'll call in a sketch artist once they wake up."

Lyn raises an eyebrow.

"If she's gone, what's with the din, then?"

He coughs and rubs the back of his neck.

"We—uh—we can't seem to turn it off."

Lyn closes her eyes and pinches the bridge of her nose. Deep breaths, Lyn. Don't verbally eviscerate the overworked, underfunded Rent-A-Cop.

"So, basically, some unknown woman ripped through our security like it's wet tissue paper, stole _something _from our vaults, made a mockery of your men, and walked away scotfree?"

Owen smiles sheepishly.

"Sorry, ma'am."

Lyn terminates the communication before she loses her temper; instead, she manages to wait until after his rodent-like face has vanished from her screen before screaming and chucking the nearest coffee mug against the wall. Her shrill shrieks echo back at her. Trembling, she closes her eyes and swallows, and grips the armrests of her wheelchair until her knuckles turn white.

Walking up late, meeting with the Big Boss later, another torturous physical therapy session, dinner with Rhys' parents.

And this.

Captain Gwendolyn Williams takes a deep breath and opens her eyes.

It's gonna be a long day.

**OOoOoOo**

**Here's the new chapter!**

**Behold, new characters! Yes, Lyn is the Pete's World counterpart of Gwen Cooper, and I know that her name hasn't officially been confirmed as Gwendolyn, but I'm using it as such. You'll be seeing more of her and Owen later.**

**And thank you for the reviews! It just makes my day when I see one of those lovelies pop up in my inbox. Also be sure to ask me any questions, make suggestions, and definitely point out any mistakes I've made! I can't guarantee that I'll give you any answers to your questions if the answer will give away a huge spoiler, but I always take what you say to heart.**

**~Nagi**


	5. A Lesson in Poor Security

She walks away, with a song in her heart and a bounce in her step. Behind her, she hears the alarm still blaring—w_oo-oooo. Woo-oooo—_as she passes between a barracks building and the mess hall.

She almost feels like skipping, and in her past life, she would have; Rose loved to skip, loved to _move. _The Bad Wolf loves to move, too, but she's more of the runner than a skipper. Besides, there is no way she can possibly skip in these heels; that's sort of the point. Three types of women wear shoes with heels like this—strippers, horny teenagers, and self-confident, vertically challenged aspiring time travellers. Finally, she's made it past the first two to the last one, and dammit, she's going to enjoy it.

She can feel the warmth of the coral burning against her leg through her coat pocket; it's a nice burn, though. Comforting. She doesn't need it to travel, course. She's not sure she's got it all worked out yet, but she _thinks _that's she's more than just an ordinary Time Lady. She doesn't feel like an ordinary Time Lady, anyway. She's pretty sure she can travel without a TARDIS, because she doesn't remember taking a train from London to Cardiff.

She thinks she just thought about it and appeared outside a cafe.

But she can't really remember, and that should worry her. It doesn't, yet. She's got forever to figure this all out, and first thing's first.

Coral.

The flood lights come on, drenching the compound in the bright surveillance of Big Brother. She pauses, momentarily perplexed, and lifts her hand to shield her eyes. In her moment of confusion, a group of Torchwood agents pour out of a nearby building—Ianto among them.

Her first instinct is to chastise him for returning to work so soon after her—Rose's untimely sorta-demise. Does her death mean nothing? Did she have so little impact on his life? He must be fine, obviously, because Torchwood's trusted him with a gun again. She's always known he's a little...off; there's a reason he's not trusted with the coffee maker, and it can be summed up by three words: Christmas. Eggnog. Strychnine. His complete lack of mourning hits the Bad Wolf, stronger than it should have. She's a Time Lady, now, dammit. She's above human emotions. She shouldn't be feeling the urge to find a Lifetime movie and curl up with a pint of Chunky Monkey. Superior being of time and space, for shit's sake.

But then she sees the little things. She sees the dark circles under his eyes, and how his pants aren't tucked into his boots—and that's not regulation, and he _loves _regulation. His hands are shaking; even if he could aim with a shred of accuracy, his safety is still on.

Rose's death hit him hard.

Is it bad that the Bad Wolf is kinda happy about that? Oh hell. That makes _her _the sociopath, doesn't it? Eh, there are worse things to be. Dead, for one thing.

"Freeze!" One of them shouts. All of them are pointing their guns at her.

She scoffs and plants her hands firmly on her hips. "Oh yeah, big men with big guns. That s'pposed ta impress me?"

They do, actually, but the Torchwood agents don't necessarily need to know that. Never mind that the blasters target at a molecular level, so while getting hit with one stings like a sonuvabitch, it's really the equivalent of a sunburn on your DNA. She's not sure they know that, though, and she's not telling them that, either.

The apparent leader aims the little red dot on her chest.

"I mean it," he warns. "I will shoot you dead, bitch."

He probably does mean it, and he has the mean Rottweiler eyes she's come to associate with thugs and overgrown bullies. Good thing she's not giving him the chance, because she's quite sure he would kill her at the first opportunity.

She rolls her eyes. "An' with that lovely notion..." She smiles and gives them a little wave, and says, "I've got an appointment with my Doctor. Later, boys."

And, between one second and the next, she disappears. The alarm goes on.

**OOoOoOo**

**Guess who's baaaaack?! Excuse me for my long absence, oh wonderful readers. Today marks the end of my first semester of college, so I've been pretty busy. But I have a whole month until Freshman Year Part 2, so I'm hoping to get a few chapters up for you lovelies.**

**Cheers,**

**Nagi**


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